


Fallout

by Fallende



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Felix is tired of comforting, Friends to Enemies to friends to.... lovers?, Friendship fallout, Hurt / Comfort without the comfort really, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Beta, eventually?, references to drugs / alcohol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25389661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallende/pseuds/Fallende
Summary: Felix knows that friends tended to drift apart as they got older. He's not surprised that he's drifted away from Sylvain. He'd let it happen.Felix has always been hot and cold. So becoming friends again with Sylvain is both easier and harder than he had expected.
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. Chapter 1

Felix thinks he might be lonely.

If he’s being completely honest with himself, Felix doesn’t think he’s ever thought he could feel lonely. But, clicking the power button on his phone and checking for a text message for the third time this hour, despite the fact that nobody has texted him in 3 days, Felix feels a wave of _something_ wash over him that he thinks, maybe, could be loneliness.

It’s not the first time he’s felt this hollow feeling in his chest, like a punch to the gut, but for the first time in a long time Felix is reminded of his older college days when he’d eaten lunch smiling at Annette humming some pop song under her breath, or burned his muscles fencing with Ingrid with their college’s elite fencing team, or sat in the library with Ashe and Dedue and tried to ignore their glances at each other so that he could finish his psychology homework.

It’s not as if he’s been completely cut off from friends. Annette is a talker, not a texter (despite Felix’s preference for communication). He’d face-timed with her around Christmas and she’d shown him the feast she and Mercedes had prepared.

Ingrid seemed to remember he existed about once a month and sent him messages making sure he was keeping up with his running routine and asking how his graduate school courses were going.

And, surprisingly more than any of the others, he texted Lysithea almost on the regular as she was still sending him nyan cat memes. They’d bonded in their last year of undergraduate when she’d found out that he didn’t like sweets, and had made it her mission to bake a cake that he would like. Since then she’d harassed him and aggressively found out his interests. Having followed him to graduate school to focus on politics, she was the only person Felix ever even hung out with these days.

When Felix was little, very little, he’d had a tight knit group of friends in Ingrid, Dimitri and Sylvain. Their youth was spent galivanting around in the woods behind Dimitri’s house, using long sticks as fake swords and pretending they were knights. Glenn would always watch them and laugh, telling them that knights had been gone for centuries. Glenn’s “heroic” death had really ruined that.

And Felix doesn’t really like to think of Sylvain anymore. Sure, Sylvain had always been a flirt. He chatted up any pretty girl who would give him the time of day, including Felix’s math tutor when they were in high school. But back before undergraduate school had begun, Sylvain had always made it a point to spend time with Felix.

Maybe it was because Felix had always been chasing after the redhead. That had ended when the older boy, one year older, and Ingrid had gone away for college and left Felix alone with Dimitri. Felix had had a big falling out with the blonde in that year alone. When both boys had eventually followed their older friends to college, Sylvain had changed.

So yeah, Sylvain and Felix had grown apart. Sylvain had stopped pestering his grumpy, asocial friend to drink with him and had spent his time instead with the frat he had joined, partying and picking up women and ingesting questionable substances. At the time Felix had been annoyed with the behavior, and breathed a sigh of relief when his phone didn’t buzz on a weekend begging him to go out. Felix didn’t like frat parties. Felix didn’t like the club.

Felix didn’t like sitting alone close to midnight because Sylvain had ditched him to dry hump some floozy, and then would inevitably stumble his way back to Felix an hour later, self-depreciating and mumbling and puking into the bushes outside Alpha Chi while Felix tried to dig keys out of the redhead’s pants pockets.

No, Felix didn’t miss any of that. Felix didn’t miss Sylvain.

How had he ever even had a crush on that trainwreck?

It’s four o’clock on a Friday evening, and the raven haired man knows that once he finishes studying this chapter of his textbook for the bar exam, he’s going to have to skip his evening fencing practice to actually clean himself up. His father is hosting a charity event for a big client and, since Felix is interning for his father’s law firm and has actually spent some time working this case, he knows he can’t skip tonight. Felix is actually going to have to _brush_ his hair before he pulls it back into its usual bun. Felix is going to have to wear a _button up_.

And he suspects it’s the fact that he’s going to have to spend the night schmoozing with his father’s rich clientele that Felix is desperately checking his phone for some semblance of kinship before he closes himself off in a ballroom where his only purpose will be to show his face and wear the family crest.

 _Fuck,_ he thinks, _it’s not Lysithea’s job to know I’m sitting here alone in the library, or Ingrid’s job to know exactly when to check in on me. Annette would probably appreciate it if I called her for once. And I have 2 fucking cats._

Felix thinks he’s lonely and wonders how he let himself fall this far.

\--

Felix has only spent 20 minutes in the dim light of the ballroom where his father is hosting his event when he feels his stomach drop.

He’s greeted Tomas, the sleazy old priest, and promised that the company is working day and night to build a solid case in the preacher’s defense. He wonders how well that promise holds up, considering the fact that he’s spending this night worthlessly throwing his family’s money at a fundraiser for the local private Christian academy and begging other rich families to do the same, instead of in the office building said case.

Considering that his childhood friends had all grown up in the area and attended the academy themselves, he really shouldn’t be surprised that the Gautiers’ are at the event. He’s seen Sylvain’s father once or twice in Rodrigue’s office. Red hair doesn’t normally turn his stomach.

But wavy red hair, on a broad shouldered, young man with champagne in his hand, tinkling laughter at something his female companion had said… that’s enough to make Felix feel ill.

And what the fuck is Sylvain even doing at this event anyways? Since when did Sylvain attend high class charity dinners?

For some godforsaken reason Felix finds himself fixing his bangs and checking his breath. Then, after cursing himself for his stupidity, Felix hightails it off the chair he’s currently hiding himself in to bury himself in the crowd on the opposite side of the ballroom.

His flight is in vain, as Felix has never been good at the socializing part of his family’s work and ends up standing awkwardly against the wall while lady Rhea works her hardest to swindle money out the local richfolk.

Felix shouldn’t be looking at Sylvain. He’s doing it so that he could make it a point to stay away for the remainder of the night. Unfortunately, brown eyes lock onto him and the younger boy can see the elder’s eyes widen in recognition.

Sylvain doesn’t even excuse himself from his date before he passes his champagne flute and starts making his way across the crowd of dinner tables.

Shit.

Felix does his best to school his expression into its usual apathetic grimace. He will give none of his displeasure away. His family is hosting this charity event, after all.

“Felix!” Sylvain shouts from halfway across the room, pushing aside chairs with one hand and waving the other in the air. As if he didn’t already know that he’d gotten Felix’s attention.

Felix blinks and takes a deep breath, as the tall redhead finishes crossing over and leans his own shoulders against the wall that Felix is crowding himself against. _Just act civil._ Felix thinks. And then, _this is going to be a disaster._

“God,” Sylvain turns his head and smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners and teeth showing wide as if he hasn’t just used the lord’s name in vain at a Christian fundraiser to clear the name of a slimy priest that Felix’s family is publicly defending. “I haven’t seen you in ages! What are you doing here?”

Felix can already feel his eyebrow twitch. “This… my family is hosting this fundraiser.” He says slowly, incredulously. He watches Sylvain’s face, the smile drooping slightly at Felix’s unenthusiastic response, and counts the teeth that are now hidden. Two molars. “Our names were on the invitations.”

The smile may have fallen a bit, but Sylvain still maintains false cheer as he continues. “Oh right, of course. It’s just, I guess I’d never have expected you to attend these sort of things, is all.”

Felix thinks it’s ironic that they’re both thinking the same thing. “What about you? You always hated Garreg Mach.” _And any sort of activity that had to do with being the Gautier heir,_ he adds in his head.

Sylvain laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. “Aha, you caught me. I’m temporarily back to sucking up to my parents before I run off again and never return. I’m totally broke, you know.”

Felix does know. Ingrid had brought it up to him a few months ago. She’d always made a point of updating him on the affairs of his childhood friends, despite the fact that Felix has always insisted he doesn’t care.

“…Ahh.” He runs a hand through his black bangs, pushing them behind his ear and looking away. He resists the urge to say anything stupid, something that might come off as mean. He wants to start a fight. He’s trying not to.

He fails as Sylvain continues.

“A couple months ago I went to California with some chick and the family yacht, and ended up blowing the last of my college savings in Vegas.” Felix’s eye twitches again. The redhead plows on. “City of dreams.”

“So you’re here to leech the family teat and then continue to dodge responsibility with drugs and hookers. Guess you haven’t changed any.”

Sylvain’s smile finally, _finally_ disappears from his face. Felix knows he’s officially sabotaged this reunion. He’d wanted to start a fight, and yet he finds himself regretting his words. “Well geez, guess you haven’t changed either. Here doing your father’s bidding in more desperate attempts to earn his affection, then?”

And Felix seethes, because _yes_ , and because also no. Yes, because he had gone into law school to take over the family business at his father’s request. No, because he’d given up on earning any sort of praise after working for his family’s firm for the past year.

Through gritted teeth, Felix responds. “I’m here as a legal representative for Father Tomas.”

“Ahh yes, you’re here representing the man accused of extorting church funds, by asking for more funds. Sounds like you’re doing your father’s bidding.”

It occurs to Felix that Sylvain is already halfway to drunk. Sylvain had only ever gotten upset with Felix’s short temper when he was drunk. And Felix realizes that the redhead is here, drinking his family’s booze and sucking up for his own father’s money, with a girl that he’d ditched after less than an hour into the night.

Growling, the shorter boy knows that fighting with Sylvain while the other is tipsy and spiraling into another fit of self-hatred is a stupid idea. He’s mad at himself for the way he’s risen to his own anger at being abandoned. Sylvain and his family have always had a tendency to do this to him. Tonight is a double whammy. “Don’t you have anybody else to be annoying tonight?”

“Nope.” Sylvain pops the ‘p’, no longer looking in Felix’s direction. Felix doesn’t know when the older boy had turned his head away. Now, his brown eyes are scanning the crowd, seemingly looking for anyone else he could spend the evening with. Felix thinks of the poor brunette who had been by Sylvain’s side just half an hour before.

There’s a lapse in conversation, Sylvain leaning forward and snagging a half-drunk cocktail off of a nearby table. He wipes his finger around the lip of the glass and takes a sip, grimacing at the flavor of the bright red drink. Felix thinks that it’s not a good look for the older boy. It’s never been a good look for him.

Sylvain continues. “You know, I came over here thinking, ‘it’s my old buddy Felix, whose been my best friend since I was 6, I’m sure he’s not going to be a dick to me’. And here you are being a dick to me.”

“Are you fucking kidding?” He accuses in return, snatching the unidentified drink from Sylvain after the older takes a second, large sip and earning a protest for his actions. “We’re an hour into this stupid evening, and you’re already drunk. I don’t even think you’ve dragged your date off to a corner to fuck yet, so I see we’re skipping a step and going right to the pity party.”

There’s a beat of silence. Sylvain seems to struggle for words, but once he’s got them settled he doesn’t look over at Felix, instead continuing to look out at the crowd. “My bad for thinking you might actually want to see me after 4 years of radio silence. I guess you meant it when you said you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

And Felix had meant it at the time. He had and he hadn’t. Like everything in Felix’s life, he’s run hot and cold on his last fight with Sylvain. He’d meant it because Sylvain was a parasite, choosing to spend his time drinking and fucking and Felix found himself disgusted both with the redhead but also with himself for wanting any sort of affection from the other so, so badly, while the redhead stole all the affection Felix had to give.

Felix stops seeing red as a moment of clarity washes over him, and Felix decides he doesn’t want to do this. He’s at his father’s charity event and he’s studying for the bar exam and he’s better than this. He hasn’t talked to Sylvain in four years and he’s moved on. His emotions have spent this whole night on whiplash and he hasn’t been this out of control with them since he was 13.

“I did.” Felix says. “I do. And I’m not doing this.”

Felix pushes off the wall and walks away, someone else’s cherry red drink still in hand. And he doesn’t look back.

Dinner is starting soon. He’ll have to stand next to his father while Rodrigue gives some ridiculous speech about the innocence of his client and the academy’s benefit to the community. Felix needs to smooth the crease in his eyebrows.

\-- 

Yeah, Felix thinks 4 and a half days later on a Tuesday morning, he’s lonely.

And he’d spent last night on the phone with Annette too, listening to the song she’d written herself while Mercedes clapped along in the background. He’s lonely, and he’d curled up in bed last night with two cats sleeping on both sides of his knees. He’s lonely, and he’s sleeping in before the afternoon class that he shares with Lysithea.

Fuck, he’s lonely, and he’d been so close with his friends when he was a decade old and foolish. And he’d purposely pushed Sylvain away.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: memes

Maybe he and Sylvain had been such good friends when they were little because they were both assholes.

Sure, Felix was much more upfront with his unfriendly behavior, but Sylvain could really cut a person when he was feeling low. Felix pulls his hair out of its bun, sweeping some stray hairs tickling the back of his neck back up into place, and thinks of the time Sylvain had made fun of Ingrid for becoming a “horse girl” at breakfast, after what must have been a particularly terrible walk-of-shame.

While Ingrid occasionally had joined Felix at the fencing club, she had instead chosen to solidify herself as a member of the equestrian club.

Pretentious that their college had had both a fencing club and an equestrian club, he thinks.

“Do you remember Sylvain Gautier?” Felix asks Lysithea in the 10 minute bathroom break their professor allows the students during their 3 hour lecture. 

Lysithea hums thoughtfully, a finger to her lips. If Felix were interested in cute, he’d love the way she’d retained some of her childish qualities. But he has a good friend in her.

“Hmm, he was in Claude’s frat, yeah?” She asks. She sets her pen down on the desk, her notebook full of rainbow colors. Today she was writing in green.

“What did you think of him?” Felix questions.

Lysithea takes a moment to choose her answer carefully. “I mean, half the girls at school were in love with him, and the other half thought he was a complete asshole.”

“And which half were you?”

“I always thought he was a complete asshole.”

Inside his head, Felix cheers. Yes, they’d probably been such good friends because they were both assholes. They’d also definitely fallen out because of that assholery.

As if someone out there is listening to their conversation or the words in Felix’s head, his phone lights up with a text message. Since they’re on break, Felix unlocks his phone to check who it’s from.

**_Ingrid (9/18/2019 1:34 pm)_ **

_Just to warn you, Sylvain is going to text you_

_Please don’t be a jerk to him_

As Felix scowls down at the offending text, Lysithea continues speaking from his right. “Didn’t you used to be good friends with him when you were young? Why do you ask?”

Felix spins his phone around so that the silver haired girl can read it. She purses her lips and nods sagely. Then, “So, are you going to be a jerk to him?”

Felix doesn’t know. He’s had almost 5 days to reflect on the way he’d acted at the dinner party and he’s not particularly proud of the display he’d made. Really, he’d grown up from that kind of childish behavior.

“I don’t know.” Felix admits, exhaling loudly. He picks up his phone, tapping the screen to begin a text back to Ingrid but not quite knowing what to say. “To be honest I never intend to be a jerk to him but it always ends up happening anyways.”

Lysithea laughs. “Aren’t you like that with everyone?” She gets out in between giggles.

Goddammit she’s right.

He texts Ingrid back ‘ _no promises’_ and pockets his phone as their professor walks back into the room. He readies himself to continue another mind numbing hour and a half of lecture.

His phone, warm in his pocket, keeps him from concentrating. Felix’s mind continues to wander to Ingrid, and the sort of conversation she must have had with the redhead. Had he told her about their fight the other night? At a fancy, high class event? Thinking about it makes Felix want to die. If Sylvain had mentioned anything about that night to their blonde friend, he’s going to be getting an earful from her later.

After 20 minutes of resisting the temptation, he pulls his phone out of his pocket and sees a notification from a number he hasn’t seen in years and yet still recognizes.

**_555-656-1187 (9/18/2019 1:51 pm)_ **

_(image)_

Lysithea glances over his shoulder at his screen to see what Sylvain has sent him, and chokes. On it is a picture of Kermit the frog, looking out a rain-spattered window. In blocky white text are the words ‘ _When you just want Boo to text back_ ’.

Felix can feel his eyebrow twitch, and he shoves his phone back into his pocket. Nope, absolutely not. He didn’t promise Ingrid he wouldn’t be a jerk, but he also didn’t promise he’d text back.

Still, when class ends another hour later and Felix pulls his phone back out of his pocket on reflex, another meme is waiting for him from the redhead.

**_555-656-1187 (9/18/2019 2:32 pm)_ **

_(image)_

This time, when Felix reluctantly opens the text message, it’s a picture of a women drinking orange juice. The comment above it reads ‘ _when you start an argument with bae to spice things up and he ends up leaving your ass_ ’.

Lysithea, still eavesdropping on Felix’s text messages, laughs out loud. She slings her backpack over her shoulder and waits for Felix to be ready before they both leave the lecture hall together for a late lunch.

“So what happened there anyways?” She asks, gesturing to the phone still in Felix’s hand. “By the way, you have read receipts on.”

Felix groans but decides he doesn’t care if Sylvain knows he’s gotten the messages – he still isn’t quite sure if he wants to respond. But Lysithea is a friend, and one the few he has left, and Felix isn’t going to get advice from anyone else who won’t be biased.

He strategizes his answer, taking a minute to form a response. Lysithea, ever the good friend, waits patiently for him.

“We got into a fight a few years ago, and just sort of stopped talking after that.”

He’s expecting the question that comes. “A fight about what?”

A fight about what indeed. Their argument that day hadn’t been any worse then the ones they’d had many, many times before. Felix thinks that this moment was just the end of his rope.

\--

He remembers that Sylvain had, once again, invited him for a night out “on the town”. It was the first semester of Felix’s third year, and midterms were coming up in the next week. Sylvain had insisted that they needed to get out and enjoy a night to break up the monotony of studying. Felix didn’t love going out, but the begging had been particularly bad on this day. Felix gets the idea that something is bothering Sylvain, and suspects it has to do with the fact that the redhead is in his senior year and still changing majors. He knows for sure that the older boy will have to take another year of classes.

And he doesn't want to go out, but something is telling him that Sylvain is going to do something stupid tonight, and Felix is going to need to pick up the pieces. Again.

God, but he’s sick of picking up the pieces.

And he definitely goes to the club that night with an attitude, unhappy with his situation and knowing where the night will lead. Of course Sylvain orders shots and takes most of them himself. Of course he drags Claude and Dorothea off to sweet talk some girls at the other table. Felix is left alone with the empty shot glasses and his phone, but at least Sylvain had given up pretty easily on trying to convince the younger boy to join them.

Sylvain never takes women home. So Felix has no choice but to wait for him.

A grueling hour goes by. This part of the night always takes the longest – waiting for Sylvain to get his rocks off enough and then make his way back to Felix. Sometimes when Sylvain returns the rest of the night goes okay, and the redhead orders them both another drink, unsuccessfully tries to get Felix on the dance floor, and they leave after another hour. Sometimes, Sylvain comes back melancholic.

Tonight is one of the latter nights.

Felix can tell because his face is pulled down in a frown, forehead creased and shoulders drawn in. “She asked me for money.” Sylvain says by way of greeting, flopping down into the booth that Felix is keeping for them. “She wasn’t even a prostitute and she asked me for money.”

And Felix won’t say it but he’s not surprised. Sylvain’s been at this college for years, and he’s built up a reputation by now. So many girls knew he was rich. So many girls knew the way he treated them, once the initial buzz wore off and he’d gotten what he wanted.

Felix doesn’t say anything, but Sylvain vents it out on him anyways. Felix sits there and takes it, and, nursing the beer he’d been working on for the past hour, the raven haired boy wonders why he’s putting up with this tonight. Why he sits there and lets Sylvain wallow, ranting about another girl who’d tried to use his family’s money.

Tonight, as Sylvain finishes his drink and suggests that they leave the others behind and go home, Felix decides he’s going to tell Sylvain that he doesn’t want to put up with this anymore.

Tonight, Sylvain’s focused on his feet trying to walk a straight line when he remarks that he’s unlovable. And Felix tells him that he agrees.

Sylvain stumbles a bit and doubles his efforts on trying to regain his footing. He laughs as he tumbles to his knees and says, “Gosh, you really think so?”

Felix is annoyed and knows he’s being harsh when he bites out, “Yeah, I don’t think anyone would want to love you.”

Sylvain laughs again and tries to right his feet on the ground. “Geez, you know sometimes you think you're being honest but you're just being mean. What did I do to deserve this?”

The shorter boy has had enough, and his fists clench at his sides as his voice raises. “I didn’t even want to be here!”

Sylvain’s laughs turn bitter. “You never want to go out with me.”

“No, I don’t!” Felix cries. “Do you think I enjoy listening to you whine about women you don’t even need to be fucking if you really hate them that much? Why the fuck do you fuck these women when you hate them, so much?!”

Sylvain opens his mouth to rebutt but Felix cuts him off, as he isn’t done.

“I spend the night by myself in a place that I never even wanted to go, only so that I can drag your drunk ass home to the soundtrack of how everybody is using you and you’re impossible to love. And the worst part is that you’re the one using these women. You’re the one using _me_! And then you cry about how nobody loves you when I’m _right here_ , having sacrificed my night to make sure that _you_ don’t wind up in a ditch somewhere!”

Whatever Sylvain had meant to say in that moment before has passed, and as Felix watches the boy give up on standing up again and continue to stare at the ground, Felix decides to leave him there.

He takes a few deep breaths and then turns on his heel. “I’m done.” He says. “I'm done with your stupid self-loathing. Find someone else to vent your shitty problems to and leave me the fuck alone.”

\--

So Felix tells Lysithea that he’d grown tired of Sylvain’s drinking and told him off, and the silver haired girl accepts it with a nod. Felix tells her about their reconnection at his father’s charity dinner last Friday. She accepts this with a nod as well.

By now they’ve made it to the campus coffee shop, having pulled some napkins to wipe the leftover food from the only empty table in the space.

“So,” Lysithea asks, taking a bite of her blueberry muffin, crumbs peppering their newly cleaned table, “do you really not want to talk to him anymore, or are you just unsure of how to since it’s been so long?”

“I don’t know.” Felix admits. “Every time I think back on any situation involving him ever, I find myself pissed at him for the way he acted but also pissed at myself for the way I acted.”

Lysithea taps the table with one hand and puts down her blueberry muffin. Then she puts out her hand, a silent request for Felix’s phone. “Let me text him.” She says. “If all he’s going to send you are stupid memes, let me send one back. I have this one saved that I’ve been dying to use.”

Letting Lysithea answer Sylvain for him does actually sound appealing. Felix wouldn’t know what to say anyways, and whatever he did end up saying was certainly going to be the wrong thing.

Felix hands his phone over in silence. Lysithea spends about 2 minutes conducting her text message and when she finally hands it back to him, Felix is only mildly horrified to see that she’s already hit send.

**TO: 555-656-1187 (9/18/2019 3:37 pm)**

_When you’re waiting for bae to stop sending memes and apologize for his actions_

_(image)_

_  
_

… Well, at least it’s better than whatever Felix was going to send. He tells her so.

Lysithea grins and says, “You need me, I know.”

They spend the next 10 minutes discussing the second half of their lecture, the one that Felix had only absorbed half of, as they wait for Sylvain to reply.

He gets a response in short order. 

**555-656-1187 (9/18/2019 3:46 pm)**

_I know for a fact that wasn’t from you Felix  
_

_Fe would never send me memes_

Actually, Felix does have a few saved in his phone, but they’re all memes that Lysithea has sent him.

“Let me send just one more, and then you can start talking to him.”

**TO: 555-656-1187 (9/18/2019 3:50 pm)**

_(image)_

__

**555-656-1187 (9/18/2019 3:53 pm)**

_who is this????_

“Okay, I’m done.” Lysithea hands her phone back to him. “If you decide to answer him, type something up and then give it an hour before you hit send. Read it again and see if you still feel that way.”

It’s good advice, so Felix types up a quick response and waits until he gets home that evening before he sends it off.

**TO: 555-656-1187 (9/18/2019 5:44 pm)**

_A friend of mine. Still waiting on that apology._

**555-656-1187 (9/18/2019 5:46 pm)**

_is this friend your girlfriend?_

Felix leaves Sylvain on read and shuts off his phone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I confess that I only played blue lions route. 
> 
> ... Games long dudes.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm warning everybody now that I only have 3 chapters planned out, and a notoriety for leaving fics unfinished. I'll do my best to prolong this motivation. I'll try.


End file.
